Tradition
by irisheyes77
Summary: Christmas comes to Seattle.


Mark stood in the parking lot of the hospital, shivering slightly as he watched the snow accumulate on the windshield of Callie's car. With one gloved hand, he attempted to wipe the snow off and cursed when a hunk of wet snow landed on his shoes.

He heard her approaching, heard the sound of her boots crunching in the snow. "Cleaning my car off?"

"I was." He looked over at her. "So, why exactly did you want me to meet you at your car after work? You never did say."

Callie unlocked the car and smiled at him. "We're going to get a Christmas tree."

Mark began to chuckle, and then noticed that Callie wasn't laughing. "You're serious."

"Let me guess," Callie replied, rolling her eyes. "You hate Christmas."

"No…yes. It's not my favorite holiday." He crossed his arms. "And isn't your roommate Jewish?"

"Cristina got a menorah, I get a Christmas tree."

"So you decide to drag me along to help."

"I need muscle to lift a tree and set it up. That's you."

"I'm not decorating it."

"I don't recall asking you to."

The snow was sticking in Callie's dark hair, creating a halo effect around her. Mark reached over and brushed the snow from her cheeks. "You'll need someone tall to put the star on top."

"Is that an offer?" She fought a smile.

"Maybe. Can we just go already? My feet are freezing."

Callie laughed as she gave him a playful punch to the gut. "Sissy."

***************************

The tree was a magnificent Douglas Fir, over six feet and perfectly shaped. It also weighed a ton…or at least Mark complained that it did as he and Callie struggled to get the tree up the stairs and into the apartment. It took them almost twenty minutes to get the tree up the stairs, and another ten to maneuver it into the apartment and set it up in the tree stand.

"You owe me," Mark said. "I think I'm getting a cold from traipsing around in the snow for an hour while you find your perfect tree." As if to punctuate his statement, he let out a loud sneeze.

Callie laughed as she hung her coat up. "Hot cocoa?"

"Add some booze and it's a deal." He sneezed again, and hung his coat next to hers. "You got ornaments and stuff?"

"On the shelf in my bedroom closet."

While Callie made them hot cocoa, Mark went and retrieved the boxes labeled 'Ornaments' from her closet.

"Thanks for getting-OHMYGOD." Callie nearly dropped the mugs when she saw Mark's face: he was covered in hives.

"What?" he asked, sneezing again. "Is there something on my face, because it does feel kind of itchy."

"Why didn't you tell me you were allergic to Christmas trees?" she practically shouted at him, setting the mugs down on the coffee table and picking up one of his hands, which was also covered in hives. "Holy shit, Mark. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know." He sneezed. "I hate to break this party up, but I think I'm going to need some drugs for this."

Callie helped him into his coat and they headed for the hospital.

"How did you not know you were allergic to Christmas trees?" Callie asked, carefully navigating the streets towards the hospital.

"We never had them." He sneezed. "Not real ones, anyway. And even if we had, I wasn't allowed near them."

"What?"

"My mother had someone do our tree every year. It was always a fake one, and I was never allowed near it because my mom didn't want her tree ruined."

"Where were your presents on Christmas morning?"

He shrugged. "It depends. Sometimes I didn't get any. If I did, they were usually just given to me when I got up for breakfast."

"No wonder you don't like Christmas."

"We put the 'fun' in dysfunctional."

Callie pulled into a parking space and turned to him. "I'm so sorry about this, Mark."

"Eh, shit happens."

"No, really…I feel horrible."

"Cal." Even with a face covered with hives, his smile was still dazzling. "Not your fault. But you can make it up to me by putting calamine lotion on my crotch."

Callie burst out laughing. "Ass."

"There too. Come on." And he got out of the car.

********************

"A bath? What am I, two?" Mark asked as he watched Callie draw the water in the large soaking tub in her bathroom.

"You heard Bailey, she said soaking in an oatmeal bath would help with the itching and swelling."

"Only if you join me."

She looked up from what she was doing long enough to glare at him. "No."

He pulled his t-shirt over his head and watched as Callie's eyes traveled up and down his body. "You sure?"

"Yes." Callie shut the water off and picked up a kitchen timer. "Bailey said fifteen to twenty minutes should help."

Mark stripped off his sweatpants. "If you don't want to join me, why are you still here?"

"I'm not." She set the timer and placed it on the rim of the tub before sauntering out.

Callie wandered into the kitchen and began to clean up, unloading the dishwasher and then re-loading it with the dishes Cristina had left in the sink. When the kitchen timer dinged, she knocked on the bathroom door. "You can come out now."

"Thank God."

Laughing, Callie went back to the kitchen to get Mark's Benadryl, and when she turned around he was standing before her, wrapped only in a towel. She couldn't help staring at his barely-clad body, because it never ceased to take her breath away no matter how many times she saw it.

"Here."

Mark swallowed the pills and gave Callie a look. "You still going to put calamine lotion on my ass?"

"Bailey didn't say anything about your ass having hives." Callie gave him a look. "Go lay down on my bed, I'll get the calamine."

Callie got the calamine and some cotton balls, but when she went to find Mark, he was passed out asleep on her bed. Smiling, she pulled the blankets up around him and turned off the light before heading out to sleep on the couch.

***********************

Christmas Eve was cold and snowy, a good night for curling up with hot cocoa and watching _A Christmas Story _in her red flannel snowman jammies, which was exactly what she had planned on doing. Cristina was working, so Callie had invited Mark over to keep her company. She'd even gone and made cookies to go with their hot chocolate.

Mark opened the door to the apartment and dropped his coat on the coat tree. "Smells good. Did you cook?"

"Better…I baked." She handed him a cookie.

Mark sat down on the couch, propping his feet up on the coffee table, and Callie handed him a mug of cocoa. "It's spiked."

He took a sip. "I'll say. Is this how you always spend Christmas Eve? Spiked cocoa and cookies?"

Callie laughed as she sat down next to him. "No…usually at home it's a nap before Midnight Mass. What about you?"

Mark shrugged. "Eh, not a Christmas person."

"So you mentioned. You don't even go see your family?"

"Nope. I will call Derek's mom, though."

"That's…sad."

"Eh, I'm used to it."

"You don't think it's sad that you are used to not having anyone for the holidays?"

"It may seem sad, but trust me, it's better this way." He looked over at her and smiled. "Besides…I'm not alone this year. But if you really feel bad, I'll let you make it up to me." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Pervert." Callie punched him playfully on the arm. "You have to have at least one happy Christmas memory."

Mark thought for a moment. "Yeah…there was one incident that was rather amusing."

"Tell me."

Mark chuckled. "I guess Derek and I were…I guess we must have been about eight, and we got this bright idea that we'd get a picture of Santa delivering the presents. So on Christmas Eve, we waited until everyone was in bed and we snuck downstairs and-keep in mind the Shepherd's always had a huge tree, I mean this sucker was enormous-and we managed to wedge ourselves into the branches of the tree to hide. Well, I immediately began to break out in hives and I started to sneeze, and I sneezed so hard that knocked the tree down. So I'm trapped in the tree, sneezing, and all 60 pounds of Derek is trying to pull me out of the tree, but instead he ends up pulling the sleeve off of my pajamas and clocking himself on the corner of the coffee table." Mark chuckled, but saw that Callie wasn't laughing. "Guess you had to be there."

"You knew."

"Knew what?"

"You _knew_ you were allergic to Christmas trees! Why didn't you tell me that when I asked you to help me?"

He shrugged in response.

"Okay, a shrug? Is not an answer. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Didn't want to."

"You're damn lucky you didn't have a more severe reaction! God, Mark! That was just stupid."

"If you're just going to sit here and lecture me, I'll return your gift."

Callie stopped. "You got me a gift?"

"Yes, and while it's nothing special, I think you'd like it. But if you don't shut up about this stupid allergy thing, neither of us will ever know."

"Fine."

"Can we watch the movie now?"

Giving him a look, she turned on the movie.

***********************

"You're not driving," Callie said. "We've both had too much to drink." She was lying on the couch, her head on a pillow in Mark's lap. His hand was drawing lazy circles on her abdomen, sending thrills up her spine. While it was true that they had been drinking, neither was incapacitated; Callie just didn't want him to leave.

"I'm not?"

"Nope. House rules." She rolled over so that she was looking up at him. "Besides, you have a present for me."

"I do. But you'll have to let me up if you want it."

She sat up and waited while he walked to his coat and retrieved a long, thin box. Sitting back down, he handed it to her. "It's nothing much…but I thought it was funny."

Giving him a quizzical look, she proceeded to rip off the wrapping paper and opened the box.

"Okay this is like a real gift," she said, taking the silver charm bracelet out of the box and holding it up. "This is not nothing. Although I will agree, it is funny." She examined the charms. "A prescription pad, a tiny scrub cap, a clamp, a syringe…is that a tiny scalpel?"

"Yep."

"Where on earth did you find this?"

"Around."

"This makes my gift look sucky." She looked at him. "Really, Mark…this is not nothing. This was…probably the most thoughtful gift I've received in awhile."

"I'm glad you like it."

"Hold on." She scurried off to her room, returning a moment later with a wrapped package of her own. "Okay, before you open this…I took a total guess as to whether or not you'd like it, and it's nowhere near as nice as what you gave me."

"Cal, whatever it is, it's fine."

"You say that now."

Mark opened the box, and he began to laugh. "You have no idea what this is, do you?"

"I know it's a baseball card."

"This isn't just any baseball card. Where did you get this?"

"I actually found it at a yard sale…Cristina was arguing over the price of our coffee table, and I just began flipping through this pile of baseball cards."

"Why did you pick this one?"

She shrugged. "Guy was a Yankee, I know you like the Yankees."

Mark shook his head, laughing. "How much did you pay for this?"

"Two bucks. Just…tell me already, dammit! What is so funny about this stupid baseball card!"

"Cal…this is Whitey Ford's rookie card. And while that means nothing to you…some man somewhere in Seattle is weeping because his wife sold this card to you for two bucks. She's lucky he doesn't divorce her."

"So…this is a good gift?"

"This is a great gift."

"Good."

There was an awkward silence as they stood there, looking at each other, neither of them sure what to do next. After what felt like an eternity, Mark reached out and pulled her to him, bending down to kiss her.

As she opened her mouth to him, a thrill ran through her body and she reached her arms around him and tangled her hands in his short hair, pulling him closer. They stood there, kissing, for what felt like ages, until they were out of breath.

"What do you want, Callie?" he asked softly, brushing a lock of hair out of her face. "We've been dancing around this for months now."

"I know. I just…" she paused and took a deep breath, steeling her resolve. "You. I want you. I want us to be an _us_. A you and me and nobody else thing."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

He kissed her again. "Okay."

"Okay."

"Does being an _us_ mean we're having sex again?"

Callie grinned. "Hell yes."

"Good. Your jammies are sexy. I find red flannel snowman jammies to be a turn-on."

"Wait until you see what I've got on underneath."

**Ten Years Later**

"Daa-aaad, come on!" Hannah called from the couch. "Mom won't start the movie until you're here!"

"It's not like the movie is going anywhere," her older sister Samantha said with a sigh-five year olds could be so tiresome when you were a worldly eight.

"Girls," Callie said warningly. "No bickering or Santa will take all your presents back."

"Just start the movie," Mark called back. "Don't wait on me!"

"Get your as…butt into those snowman jammies and get out here!" Callie said.

A moment later, Mark appeared, looking very unhappy. "Is this really necessary?"

"Yes," the three women in his life chorused.

Mark picked Hannah up and sat down in her spot, putting her in his lap. "Who thought the matching pajamas thing was cute again?"

"Mom." Samantha turned the TV on. "Can we please watch the movie now?"

With a smile, Callie turned the movie on.

Hours later, after tucking the girls into bed, Callie found Mark-still in the red flannel snowman pajamas that he had bitched so mightily about-putting together Samantha's new bike.

"You about done there, Kris Kringle?" she asked.

Mark didn't even look up from his project. "Yeah, just a couple of last things before we can put it under the tree."

"How long?"

"Five minutes."

"I think I can wait that long."

"For wh-" Mark looked up and saw his wife wearing only the tops to the red flannel snowman pajamas, and grinned. "Oh, for that."

"It is a tradition with us, Mark."

He stood up and walked to where she was standing, and bent down to kiss her, sliding his hand up the outside of her thigh to her bare ass. "This is the part of that tradition I like the best."

Callie rolled her eyes. "You're like a horny teenager."

He kissed her again. "I told you, I find red flannel snowman jammies a real turn on." He tossed the screwdriver to the floor and picked Callie up in his arms, carrying her back to their bedroom.


End file.
